Immortal Beloved
by trinchardin
Summary: One stalker is enough for Sara...what about two?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.   
  
Hey, guys! Here's a fic for all those who wanted to hear from me another time around. ...And for those who noticed, yes, I stole the title from a Beethoven movie - the musician, not the dog. ^_^ Thanks to those who reviewed my previous work and a special shout out to Spin for the suggestion sent over. I didn't use it, but I hope you aren't disappointed with this new fic. ...Oh and this won't get romantic unless you guys say so...or my muse wanders that way. ^_^  
  
Immortal Beloved  
Prologue  
  
The sun sneaked in to cast shadows all about the room as it started its descent outside. The dark-haired man raked his hair with a shaky hand and muttered a curse. Pushing up his glasses, he shut the blinds and started his work with steadied hands. Minutes later, he set the first shot in the pan of solution and held his breath as the picture slowly showed up. He traced a finger along the cheek of the smiling girl. After a moment of silent study, he shook his head as if to clear it and stepped out of his make-shift dark room.   
  
An entire section of the annexed room was papered with a collection of prints. All had images of girls with shared features. There were faded black-and-whites, yellowed sepias, and crisp coloreds all in precise chronological order. None were framed. Only one had that honor. It sat on a table, an ornate frame with a black-and-white of a young woman. The man neared the photo and compared it to the one he held. Lips pursed in contemplation, he shook his head once more.  
  
Close...yet, not. But, this one would do for the while. He was so close now. He could sense her nearness. She was in this place, this city of sin, and he would find her. He had waited years, but he could wait some more. Patience was a lesson well-known to him. Besides, time was of little importance to him. What mattered was that he not lose her a second time. Once he found her, they would be together again...and he would deal with her abductor.   
  
But, now a woman awaited a visit from him.  
  
He smiled at the thought as he settled his coat about him. After a last look at the picture, he tucked it in his front pocket and set out. He walked a few blocks then rode a bus for a few more. He stepped out and walked back some before he stopped at an apartment house. When he'd found her name, he pressed the button beside it. At the beep of the intercom, a breathless voice answered.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"It's me. I have your pictures."  
  
"Oh...they're already ready?"  
  
"Yes. I was around the area and thought I'd drop them off."  
  
"That's nice of you, but I'm really busy at the moment..."  
  
"I see... I'd place them with the mail, but some shots..."  
  
"Hn... This won't take long, right?"  
  
"No. Not at all."  
  
"Alright then."  
  
The door sounded and he turned the knob to step in. He went up to her floor and knocked at her door. He entered at her shouted assent. The door was unlocked. He locked it after himself and followed the sound of her voice to a small study. She was on the phone. An apologetic grin was flashed at him, then she turned away to continue her conversation. As she talked, he looked around. Wide windows, but blinds were drawn... No pets... Ah, a handy diary in clear view... An appointment in a few minutes... Hm... 'Meet up at movies'... Yes.  
  
A soft rap on the walls. Solid.  
  
The phone was set down. The screams started seconds later. No one would hear them.   
  
The walls were thick enough.  
  
  
The next day, he passed by her place. The cops were already there. He wasn't worried. He knew he hadn't left anything they could use to find him. He'd had practice and he'd learned from past mistakes. Others had paid for them at times. The police called them 'copycat crimes'. They never knew there was only one hand behind it all. Well, let them fall all over themselves with this new development. Their predecessors hadn't been able to protect -her-. Why should he care if they spent sleepless nights over this case? From past experience, those who never found a good scapegoat would bury the case sooner or later. They didn't really care about those who died or those who were left behind.  
  
He watched as they went about their work. The body bag was brought out. Before it could be slid into the coroner's van, a voice called out to stop the men with the stretcher. Seconds later, the voice's owner stepped up to them with a blonde man behind her. As she zipped opened the body bag, the man spoke to her. He seemed to be concerned about something as he gestured at the corpse. When she moved and he saw her face, their watcher understood why. He hissed sharply as he studied her familiar features.  
  
It was her.  
  
Then, he shook his head as he shakily exhaled. Of course not. It was impossible. This wasn't her.   
  
He glanced up again to scrutinize the woman. He smiled. No. She wasn't the one. But, she would do for the while. He raised his camera up and snapped a shot.  
  
Click. 


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.   
  
Thanks for everyone's nice reviews! ^_^ ...Hey, Divamercury, hope to hear more from "Danger Zone"! Wonderful work so far! Same with moondreamer! I love "A Day in the Life"! I hope Ian turns up soon! And Jady, I see we have some 'mysterioso' with "An Angel's Sacrifice"! Post soon!   
  
Immortal Beloved  
Chapter 1  
  
With a muffled moan, a hand crept out from under the covers and slammed the alarm clock to silence. A dark head of hair followed soon after with a frown. The covers were shoved off and a slender form stepped onto the floor on bare feet. A passing glance out the window caused emerald eyes to roll.  
  
"Doesn't he have somewhere else to be?"  
  
"Maybe not," a cheerful voice chirped in.  
  
The eyes shifted to land on the newcomer.  
  
"If you don't have a cup of joe, leave."  
  
"Ah. That time of the month, hn?"  
  
A night shirt was flung at the man as the bathroom door slammed. Minutes later, the young woman walked out and went into the kitchen to throw together something to eat.  
  
"What the hell do you want at this time of the day, Danny?"   
  
"Why? I can't just come around to greet you a good morning?"  
  
A glare got a laugh out of the man, then he became serious.  
  
"Someone has an eye on you."  
  
"And don't I know it." The woman scowled out the window.  
  
"I didn't mean him, Pez."  
  
She turned to frown at him.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Watch your back."  
  
"Isn't that his job?" She remarked sarcastically with a nod outside.  
  
"Maybe he can't do anything about it."  
  
"So, it's Irons?" The man just shrugged.  
  
"Just remember. Everything's connected."  
  
Then, she was alone once more.  
  
"Damn way to start the day," she growled.  
  
Another scowl out the window, then she was out the door.  
  
  
"So, what do we have on the woman from yesterday?"  
  
"Charlotte Cross...single, white female...lived alone...part-time model...unemployed...no criminal record...just some unpaid tickets...friend, Diana Abbot, reported her missing the day before yesterday...they were supposed to meet up for movies...she didn't show...fiancé in London...no possessive ex-boyfriend... That's all."  
  
"That can't be all if she's a cold corpse in the morgue, Jake."  
  
"I can see why you're pissed off, Sara. But, we have zilch."  
  
"Then, spin straw into gold and find something for me, wonder boy."  
  
"Time of the month. Hn," he muttered.   
  
A pencil flew out after him just before the office door swung shut.  
  
"Men."  
  
She shook her head and buried herself in paperwork to push away mental pictures of her double on an iron slab. It wasn't that she was worried for herself... It was just...creepy. Like a premonition.  
  
"Sara, check this out!" Her partner shouted as he stormed back in.  
  
With raised brow, she took the thick stack he handed her. After the first few pages, her feet went down from the table and settled on the floor as she frowned. They were a compilation of reports on murders that went as far back as the 1950's. They stretched out from Europe to Asia, then the Americas. Some were marked as solved, but most seem to have been buried after years of failure. And all had the same sort of victims. This couldn't be just a coincidence...  
  
"Is this for real?"  
  
"Asked myself the same...but, hell, the same M.O. all this time? It must be a cult of copycats!"  
  
Sara's eyebrows shot up.  
  
"...Well, it could be!"  
  
Jake smiled sheepishly.  
  
"The last file here is from Philadelphia. Call them and see what turns up, OK?"  
  
"Yes, master."  
  
"Careful." Sara smirked. "I might get ideas."  
  
The man just laughed and picked up the phone.  
  
As he spoke to a contact in the other state, his partner compared the crime scene photos from various states and countries. It was eerie how each one seemed exactly alike. The women...the way they were posed... It was as if they were all done by the same person... Ridiculous, Sara reprimanded herself. The perp behind the crimes would have to be almost ancient. ...Or he could have had an apprentice of sorts. She shuddered in disgust at the thought.  
  
Then, something caught her eye.  
  
She snatched up a magnifying glass from the desk and peered at the pictures. What was that in their hands... A flower...a rose?  
  
"Jake... Jake!"  
  
She pelted him with a crumpled memo.  
  
"Hey, I'm on the phone here!"  
  
"Were there any flowers at the scene?"  
  
"There was a rose - "  
  
"Aside from that! A bouquet maybe?"  
  
"Not that I saw."   
  
He returned to his conversation as she went through the other reports. All the same. A rose in the hand. Same M.O. And so? She already knew that. Still, she knew this was important...this...  
  
A vision hit her.  
  
~  
"Roses in the winter? How sweet."  
  
"Not as sweet as you."  
  
"You're such a charmer you know."  
  
A pale hand was clasped and kissed.  
  
"All I know is you love your roses."   
  
"And what I want, you'll give. Is that it?"  
  
"Anything and everything for you."  
  
The sun glinted on bangle...  
~  
  
It was over...  
  
Her eyes shut as she absorbed what she'd seen. The bracelet...the Blade... The woman was a Wielder. But, which one? And who was the man with her? What did -they- have to do with her case?   
  
What did all mean?  
  
Whatever it was...  
  
She knew it was just the start. 


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.   
  
Thanks to the lovely reviewers out there! ...It's also nice to hear from those talented people with their new posts! Jady... Cyn... Angharad... ^_^ And I see you're back on track, Divamercury! Cheers, and good luck with your finals! ...Oh and has anyone heard from Rob1? I wonder what happened to "Prodigal Son"... And I know you're out there, Spin! Hope you're writer's block is better! I'll mail you an idea or two after I post this. ^_^   
  
Immortal Beloved  
Chapter 2  
  
"Philadelphia didn't have anything we didn't already have. It's the same perp, no doubt."  
  
"Well, try to identify this then."  
  
"It's a rose," Jake replied cockily.  
  
He tossed the blown-up photo of the flower back on the table. Sara rolled her eyes and pushed it towards him another time.  
  
"Duh, wonder boy. But, what type is it?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Then, find out."  
  
The phone sounded and Sara picked it up.  
  
"Pezzini."  
  
"Sara, it's me."  
  
"Vicky! Wassup?"  
  
"I've got something on the Cross woman. I think you should come over and see this."  
  
"Be there in a few."  
  
She hung up and shrugged on her jacket. At that, Jake looked up from the computer.  
  
"Where are you going?"   
  
"Morgue."  
  
"Something turn up?"  
  
The door slammed shut.  
  
"Great. I'm a freaking secretary."  
  
  
"So, Vicky, what you got for me?"  
  
Sara stifled a grimace as the other woman uncovered the corpse on the cold slab.  
  
"Well, you say there were no signs of a struggle at the scene. The body says the same. No bruises or broken bones. Perfectly healthy. ...Except her heart seemed to just stop. That's the cause of death."  
  
"It just stopped? Is that possible?"  
  
"It's happened. But, I've read her medical history. She had no heart problems and your report doesn't show anything that could cause such an occurence."  
  
"But, it could have just happened."  
  
"Yes," was the other's reluctant reply. "But, considering that all the others died in the same manner... Coincidental? I think not."  
  
"Poison?" Sara asked.  
  
"Zilch on toxin test."  
  
"But, what if it left her system?"  
  
"Possible, but unlikely."  
  
"How about that untraceable shit?"  
  
"Well, you never know with the stuff that turns up these days."  
  
"Damnit. ...Is this all you have to show me?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Sara, but that's all I've got."   
  
She turned to leave when she remembered...  
  
"Vicky, there was a rose on the scene. Did you run any tests on it?"  
  
"Now, that you mention it... There -was- a rose turned over to me. But, I wasn't able to test it."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"It died before I could do so."  
  
"It -died-?"  
  
"I know. Weird. It was practically fresh when they handed it to me. I placed it in the fridge, but it was wilted when I took it out for testing. That was yesterday."  
  
"How much time in between?"  
  
"Not much. An hour or so."  
  
"Well, see what you can do with it, OK?"  
  
"Don't worry. I'm already on it."  
  
"Call me if anything turns up."  
  
"Don't worry."  
  
  
The man set the flowers into the carton with care. He started to wrap them with soft tissue when he hesitated. He took one and brushed it against his lips. It was soft silk with a scent...that was poison. Sinful in its sweetness...intoxicating...  
  
Like -her-.  
  
Her skin...her scent...her touch...her look... Just her.  
  
His eyes closed at the thought of the woman that owned him. No wonder she loved this flower. It symbolized her in a way.   
  
Yet, he wondered once more if he should send the flowers. It wasn't his usual style. The one who received them would undoubtably be surprised...and little - if anything at all - surprised that person.   
  
The clock chimed behind him.  
  
Well, 'twas now or never...  
  
  
Sara rotated her neck to ease out some of the stress that had concentrated there. It had been a hard day. Jake's research was unsuccessful... Vicky hadn't called... Dante had been on her case for the n-th time... Wonderful. And for the strangest reason, she hadn't sensed her shadow except for the one time when she woke up. ...Not that she cared, mind you. It was just...odd. Perhaps, Irons had finally grown weary of her and her stubborness. He certainly had been silent as of late. Just as she struggled to push such thoughts from her mind, the doorbell sounded.  
  
With a soft sigh, she headed for the door and peeped out the small peek hole. A harmless delivery boy was at the door. Damnit. She was growing more and more paranoid everyday. She opened the door and raised an eyebrow at the youth there. He just smiled in return and handed her a narrow box. She tucked it under an arm as she signed his clip board sheet. When he started to turn and leave, she stopped him with a firm hand on his arm.   
  
"Yes, ma'am?"  
  
"Who sent this?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
He pointed at the box.  
  
"But, there's a card."  
  
"Oh."  
  
She cursed her blindness under her breath as the youth left. Shutting her door with a bang, she settled the box onto a table and eyed it warily. Damn her paranoia. It wasn't like anyone was out to kill her. Irons had more class than to send a bomb - besides, he had her stalker to do his dirty work in a more direct style. And sure, it was creepy with a serial killer after her look-alikes, but...  
  
Oh, what the hell.  
  
She tore the card off the carton and flipped it open with a finger.  
  
Blank. Just great.  
  
She stared at the box and took a deep breath. What to do...what to do... Well, yeah, she could call a bomb squad over - and make herself even more a laughing stock of the force when it turned out to be nothing. So, there went wonderful-idea #1... What about stalker man? She was sure he'd be glad to open any deadly packages for her - if he was around...or if he wasn't the one who sent it in the first place. Then, there was ex-parter Casper. She looked around. Nope. Not in sight. Great. When you need them, they're not there. Hmph.  
  
Finally, she just yanked at the cover and the contents tumbled out.  
  
Roses. 


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.   
  
Thanks, people! Couldn't do this without your lovely reviews! ^_^ Moondreamer, Ian + Shopping with Sara... + Victoria's Secret = Outrageously Funny! Kinky couple... *chortles* I -definitely- want a new chapter posted soon! I also hope to hear from Spin soon... *hint, hint* ^_^ Well, here's the third chapter. I may wrap it up earlier then expected - not 'cause school's starting again *shudders* - but 'cause I have a new idea that I want to start on. Well, let's wait this fic out first, shall we?  
  
Immortal Beloved  
Chapter 3  
  
It was some time before Sara realized that the flowers were a different shade - crimson red, rather than virginal white. It was strangely reassuring, especially when that led to the awareness that they were an entirely different type of roses.  
  
"Ooooh, roses! From whom?"  
  
She jumped at the sudden sound of a voice behind her then spun around, hand to racing heart. There, she found her former partner with a wide smile. She pinned him with a furious look, but he just stepped around her to see the spilt flowers.  
  
"-I- wouldn't know," she finally replied, her voice laced with ice.  
  
"Well, looks like someone's gone a-courting."  
  
He smirked as Sara actually flushed to match the flowers' color.  
  
"Why would he send them?"  
  
"Well, who else would?"  
  
"Irons."  
  
"He would have written some amorous note."  
  
"Jake."  
  
"He would have plagiarized some cheesy poem."  
  
"...And -if- it was him?"  
  
There was no need to ask who 'him' was.  
  
"He would have sent a blank card."   
  
The Asian smirked at the dropped card.  
  
"Oh, drop dead!"  
  
The other promptly collapsed on the floor. Sara rolled her eyes and mock-kicked him in the side. The man immeditely leaped to his feet and leaned against the table, though they both knew he really wasn't there. She scowled at him then started to pick up the flowers.  
  
"Now, why would he send you flowers?" The man continued to tease her. "Red roses... Don't they mean 'I love you'?"  
  
"If you don't have anything better to say, 'Wise Asian Master', get the hell out of here."  
  
"Touchy, touchy, Pez."  
  
The man straightened and smirked again.  
  
"The Nile isn't just a river, you know."  
  
"What - "  
  
The man had already vanished before she could finish. Her eyes darkened as she satisfied herself with muttered curses.  
  
"Denial! Ha! Whatever..."  
  
She softly trailed off as her eyes went to the window and she saw someone on the neighboring rooftop. Suddenly flushed, she hurriedly gathered the roses and headed for the privacy of the kitchen. When she reentered the room with the flowers in a vase, she was half-relieved and half-upset to see the rooftop empty. She set the vase on the table and started to pick up the leaves and petals that had scattered earlier. Only then did she notice a stray sheet of paper on the floor. Puzzled, she held up and scanned its contents. When she realized what it was, her eyes widened.  
  
Seconds later, she stormed out the door, lips thinned and eyes hard.   
  
It seemed someone deserved a visit from her.  
  
  
"Sara, what a pleasant surprise."  
  
"I doubt it. You don't seem the type to enjoy surprises."  
  
The fair-haired man simply smiled and sat at his desk.   
  
"Please...have a seat, Sara."  
  
"This is official business, Irons."  
  
"Sorry." A shrug. "...Detective Pezzini."  
  
"I won't be here long enough to need a chair. ...What do you know about a type of rose called 'Tod'?"  
  
"I'm not a florist, Detective - "  
  
"I didn't say you were, but I asked you a question. Answer it."  
  
"It's a hybrid. An unusual blossom - "  
  
"Because it's poisonous?" Sara snapped.  
  
"Correction," Irons coolly replied. "-Was- would be the word."  
  
"And why isn't it anymore?"  
  
"Because it's no longer grown. Like you said, it was poisonous. ...One couldn't very well sell flowers that killed people - "  
  
"Unless the one buying them wanted them for that very reason."  
  
"I don't see what you're trying to imply."  
  
"Oh, I think you do. Your German branch of 'Vorschlag Organics' created the flower. ...Was there someone you wanted to kill and you decided to say it with flowers, Irons?"  
  
"It wasn't like that!" The man hissed.  
  
Sara's eyes widened when she realized she'd actually caused the man to stand from his seat and raise his voice. Once he'd realized it too, he calmly sat down once more and steepled his hands before him.  
  
"When it was discovered to be poisonous, the entire crop was destroyed along with everything else," he stated flatly.  
  
"Then, why did you name it 'Tod'? Isn't that German for death?"   
  
"That was a nickname."  
  
"What was the full name?"  
  
"Bis dass der Tod uns scheidet."  
  
"Hmph. No wonder it needed a nickname."  
  
"What is the reason for this?" Irons asked, his tone surprisingly sharp. "Don't make me laugh by saying you're arresting me for that."  
  
"No. ...But, it's strange how a man as efficient as you has orgnizations that are...well, disorganized."  
  
"Whatever do you mean?"  
  
"Well, it seems some roses escaped your people and now, a serial killer leaves them behind as a calling card. Odd how the trail of dead bodies starts in Germany, hn? You wouldn't know anything about that...would you?"  
  
"Of course not."  
  
"Just checking."  
  
When she moved to leave, Irons raised his hand to stop her.  
  
"You said it was a serial killer. ...Who are his targets?"  
  
"Strangely enough...women that wear my face."  
  
The door shut after her and for a moment, Irons sat alone in silence. His face was a deathly pale as he stared darkly out the window. Then, he suddenly jabbed at a button on his desk and seconds later, his devoted servant stepped in.  
  
"Have you increased security as I ordered?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"...You told her about 'Tod', didn't you?"  
  
Rather than reply, the man before him just tensed in expectation of a blow. Irons merely sneered.  
  
"Ready a team. There is work to be done in Berlin."  
  
The bowed head bent even lower if possible. It was obvious the man wanted to stay near his Lady.   
  
"What about you, sir? What of your safety?"  
  
"I'll be fine if you followed my orders."  
  
"Of course, sir." The man moved to leave.  
  
"Wait." The other immediately halted. "...Once they are ready, return to Sara. She could be in danger."  
  
"As you wish, sir."   
  
The dark-haired man bowed low and left. It was evident that he was relieved about Irons' orders. So, his tin soldier had problems with loyalty, hn? He would have to deal with that after this was over. But, as of the moment... He hadn't left a lot of enemies alive in his path to power, yet it seemed he'd overlooked a lethal one.   
  
Who could it be...and how could he have lived for so many years? 


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.   
  
Thanks for all the reviews, people! ^_^ I see alot of you are hard at work, too, so I just had to post another chapter or I'd feel left out. Hope you don't mind this rush job. ^_^  
  
Immortal Beloved  
Chapter 4  
  
"Hey, Vicky, it's me. I found out the cause of death already. ...Yeah, it was the rose. ...I think the toxins in it let it fade faster. ...Don't worry. I'll fax the info to you tomorrow. ...No, I'm fine. Just tired. ...Yeah, bad day. Bye."  
  
Sara hung up the phone and shrugged out of her jacket. It caught on a chair and she started to strip as she made her way to the bathroom. Her body ached all over and her head hurt like hell. Confrontations with Irons tended to do that to a person. As soon as she had a shower, she'd just crash on her bed. Good thing she'd picked up a burger at a nearby drive-thru earlier.  
  
By the time, she'd stepped out of the shower it was almost twelve. She wondered what had possessed her to rush over to see Irons once she knew he was involved. It could have waited until tomorrow... Oh well. The man just rubbed her the wrong way.  
  
She yanked on a shirt and padded on bare feet to her bed, barely awake anymore. Before her head even hit the pillow, she was asleep.  
  
  
Her alarm clock woke her up nice and early the next day. Frankly, she wasn't in any better a mood than yesterday. Out of the door after a cup of coffee, she drove her motorcycle like a devil on wheels and was at the precinct in no time flat. Fortunately - for him, she thought grimly - Dante was nowhere in sight and she got to her office without incident.  
  
Jake was there already and when he started to annoy her with his surfer-dude attitude, she kicked him out to fetch more coffee. He was only too happy to do so and after the silence sunk in, her mood eased a little. She started to shift through some paperwork when the phone rang. She picked it up.  
  
"Pezzini."  
  
"Ah...this is Detective Pezzini, yes?" A nasal voice asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I understand you are on the case of Char? Poor woman - "  
  
"Char? You mean Charlotte Cross? You knew the woman?"  
  
"Yes. The poor - "  
  
"Who is this?" She asked, searching for pen and paper.  
  
"This is Jared Kohl."  
  
"How did you know Miss Cross?"  
  
"I photographed her."  
  
"I see..." She said as she scribbled his name down.  
  
"I just saw her last week. Who knew she'd die the way she did? That poor woman. So beautiful - "  
  
"Yes. Well, could we meet? I'd like to ask you a few questions."  
  
"But, of course! You can come by my place. Today even if you want."  
  
"Good. Where do you live, sir?"  
  
He dictated his address and seconds later, she was out the door, torn sheet in hand. She bumped into Jake on the way out and he held up the coffee in askance.  
  
"I've got a lead!"   
  
"I'll go with you!"  
  
"No. I can handle it. Stay here and research."   
  
The doors closed behind her and she was on her bike before he could say anything else.  
  
"Damn woman."  
  
  
"These are my last shots of her. Photogenic, wasn't she?"   
  
The bespectacled man wrung his hands as he sighed loudly.  
  
"Such a pity," he continued. "Last I heard of her, she was to start her career as a full-time model. That was just the week before."  
  
"But, if she had something going on, wouldn't she need you?"  
  
"Ah! I wish I could say so, but she said she needed a more...what did she say? Ah, yes. She needed a more distinguished photographer to make her career. So, she left me," he finished and turned morosely to his photos.  
  
"So, you saw Miss Cross last..."  
  
"Monday. She picked up the last of her photos."  
  
"And you never saw her again?"  
  
"Unfortunately not."  
  
"Do you know if she did find another photographer?"  
  
The man shook his head.  
  
"Do you have a list of colleagues I could question?"  
  
"No, but I could provide you with one."  
  
"I'd appreciate that."  
  
As he started to make one, Sara looked around her at the pictures that papered the wall. She had to raise an eye at his subjects.  
  
"You prefer brunettes."  
  
"You could say so." The man smiled wryly.  
  
"Here is your list."  
  
"Thanks. ...Your accent. I can't place it."  
  
"It's German."  
  
"Oh, really now? Were you born in Germany?"  
  
"Yes, I was."  
  
"Working visa?"  
  
"Naturalized."  
  
"Hn... Do you know what..." She paused, trying to remember the words. "What 'bis dass der tod uns scheidet' means, Mr. Kohl?"  
  
She waited to see his reaction. The man just blinked in surprise.  
  
"Yes. As a matter of fact, I do. It means 'til death do us part'."  
  
"Oh...well, thank you. That will be all for now. But, I may contact you again for questioning."  
  
"Of course. I'd be happy to assist you in your investigation."  
  
"Then, I'll be in touch."  
  
"Let me walk you to the door - "  
  
"No. That's not necessary."  
  
She smiled and started to head for the door of the cramped room. Once she'd reached it, she looked back and her eyes narrowed as she saw the man absently stare at a photo and caress the cheek of the former model.   
  
As soon as she was out the door, she took out her phone and dialed in a number.  
  
"Jake? It's me. I want you to check out someone. Name's Jared Kohl. ...Oh, and could you check the papers on the desk? There's a xeroxed sheet there. ...Got it? ...Good. Fax it to Vicky, won't you? ...Yeah, that's all. Thanks, man. ...I'll be back in a few. Just need to check out some people. ...Sheesh, Jake. I'll be fine. Bye."  
  
She rolled her eyes and slipped her phone back into a pocket. Then, she took out the list Kohl had handed, just a few names. The first one was just a few blocks down. Best to start now. 


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.   
  
Hey, guys! Once more, thanks for your reviews! Didn't want to disappoint, so I want to post another chapter before I head for bed. ...Inspiration and insomnia does that to a person. ^_^  
  
Immortal Beloved  
Chapter 5  
  
"Well, what do you have?"  
  
Sara tossed her notepad over to her partner and then settled down at the desk. As she went over his research, Jake read the notes she'd written down in her interviews.  
  
"Hn," Sara mused with raised brow. "So, our Mr. Kohl has a past record of harassment. One of his former clients even went so far as to get a restraining order."  
  
"So, you think he's the one?"  
  
Jake looked up from her notes. She just shrugged in return and continued reading. When she was done, she took out the list of Kohl's colleagues and started to check for past criminal records. Except for a few parking tickets, there was nothing to go on.  
  
"Guess so. The rest seem clean."  
  
"So, you want to check back with this man? ...Maybe with me next time?" The blonde man smirked.  
  
She rolled her eyes and nodded.  
  
"Fine. Let's see him tomorrow."  
  
"But, you do know we need hard evidence on him? Stalking and harassing, yes. But, he doesn't have a violent record. No assault cases. Homocide will be a stretch and hell to prosecute without proof. All we have is circumstantial evidence."  
  
Sara pinned him down with a sharp look.  
  
"Who are you and what the hell did you do to my partner?"  
  
"Hey, Sara, just 'cause I look like some dumb blonde..." She smirked. He frowned. "...-jock- doesn't mean I'm stupid. ...Besides, I know a few lawyers. The lingo's not that hard to learn."  
  
She had to smile and shake her head at him.   
  
"Now, I've seen everything."  
  
"So, tomorrow, right?"  
  
"Tomorrow."  
  
She pulled on her jacket and turned to him.  
  
"Are you staying late?"  
  
"Just to wrap up some stuff."  
  
"OK. See you tomorrow."  
  
He nodded and she stepped out to bump into her least favorite person - even Irons had to place second. At least, -that- man had the decency not to leer and look at her like he was undressing her in his head. The man smirked at her as he brushed past a little too close for comfort in the narrow hallway. She just looked coldly back at him and watched as he entered her and Jake's office. The blonde man looked up and saw her before the door closed. She couldn't read the expression on his face. Lips pursed, she continued on her way and wondered what the hell went on when she wasn't around.  
  
  
He watched as she walked out of the precinct. This woman was smart. She wasn't like the others. In fact, she reminded him of his lady... A part of him whispered that he took his time with this woman because he was afraid of facing his lady after all this time. Perhaps, it was right... Shouldn't he be after he'd failed her?  
  
The man shook his head and shoved up his glasses again to peer at the woman across the street. He watched as she mounted her motorcycle and sped off into the darkening night. Yes, she was smart. She'd come closer to him than any of the other law enforcers in the past and some had come quite close. Sure, it didn't really matter because he was near his lady already, but he'd set her as the next one and he felt obliged to follow through. A pity really...  
  
No photo shoot needed for her. The snapshot would do. It was already tacked on next to the others on his wall. It was the end of the line for her...and his search. Within the week, he'd be reunited with his lady. But, first he had to handle this last one.  
  
Perhaps, he'd come calling tonight.  
  
  
Ian hid in the shadows as he watched his Lady in the apartment across. She'd crashed onto her couch with a carton of Chinese to catch a sitcom or two. There were dark circles under her eyes and she seemed more worn-out than usual. This latest case had taken quite a toll on her.  
  
He'd seen her reaction when she saw the roses. The initial fear on her face tore at his heart. He wished he'd dropped the dramatics and just sent the information in an envelope. Then, he saw her lazily look up from the TV set and stroke the petals of the bouquet beside her. A smile seemed to lurk on her lips, then she turned back to the TV. He sighed softly.  
  
Why did she always confuse him this way?  
  
Toss him into a lethal situation of switchblades or high-powered rifles and he could deal with the best of them, but with this woman... He always felt inadequate...unworthy. Lost in thought, he almost missed the persistent ring of his phone. Slipping it out, he answered it.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Sir, it's Stevens."  
  
"What do you have for me?"  
  
"Most of our leads were dead ends - "  
  
"Cut to the chase. What did you find out?"  
  
"All those on the list died several years back. All natural causes or accidents. Some left relatives. Most still reside in Berlin. One is in Paris, another in London. One stayed in Africa, then transferred to Southeast Asia. Two are in America. One in San Francisco, another in Hawaii. Those abroad have not set foot in America within the past few years. Those who live there haven't even visited New York. All are non-hostile."  
  
"What about former associates? Any relatives?"  
  
"One left a grand-son and grand-daughter. The woman lives in Ireland. The man is involved in a Neo-Nazi organization in Germany. Neither have left their respective countries in several years. Another left a grand-son. But, he died in a car accident a year back. Aside from them, there's no one else."  
  
"You're positive about the people on the list?" Ian persisted.  
  
Those were the ones Irons was most concerned about. People he'd known in World War II. It would be a wonder if those people could have lived for such a span of time. Then, again, look at Irons. If he'd found a way to cheat death, others may have as well.  
  
"Well?" He asked sharply, when the other didn't reply immediately.  
  
"...There is one," the other man admitted hesitantly.  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"We found a certificate of death. A car crash days before Germany surrendered. But..."   
  
"But, -what-?"   
  
"Further research showed that his body...well, it disappeared from the morgue before the funeral. The mortuary just got another body and cremated it so no one would find out. It was war-time and the man left no relatives, so it wasn't that hard to do. ...And the strange thing is...if this man had already died then, he wasn't even supposed to be on the list. Someone must have made a mistake. ...We already had files on him, sir. -We- were the ones who killed him...or at least, one of the original agents arranged his death. It's on file."  
  
"And you say that his body disappeared after the crash?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"You're positive we weren't involved in its disappearance?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Ian bit back a sigh. Irons wasn't going to like this.  
  
"Well, see what else you can find and... Start searching for people who could be him. He might go under another name or even have disguised himself. Use our contacts with Interpol or hack into the CIA database. I don't care. Just -find him-."  
  
"...What are you saying, sir? That he could still be alive? But, the reports say - "  
  
"I don't care what they say. Until you can find me a dead body in a ditch whose DNA matches his, he could still be alive. So, go and find -something-."  
  
"Yes, si - "  
  
Ian hung up. 


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.  
  
Glad to see I seem to be doing something right. ^_^ Thanks for the reviews, folks. I know I'm over the deep end with all the 'mysterioso crap', but I promise matters will eventually clear up. ...And moondreamer ^_^... MORE, MORE, MORE!!! Is "A Day in the Life" done? If so, you have to post for "Instinct" soon! What happened to poor Ian!?! ...And where in the world is Rob1 and "Prodigal Son"?  
  
Immortal Beloved  
Chapter 6  
  
Sara stretched out on the couch and stifled a yawn as she fumbled with the remote control. After she'd switched the TV set off, she closed her eyes and relaxed for a moment. She idly wondered if she should just stay where she was or try to reach her more comfortable bed. Seconds later, a hand felt for the lamp switch and the room went dark.  
  
And as she slept, she dreamt.  
  
~  
"More flowers?" A soft tinkling laugh.  
  
"A new breed of roses. Just for you."  
  
"Really now." A smile. "You didn't need to create one for me."  
  
"Remember - anything and everything."  
  
"You're such a softie at heart."  
  
"Don't let the Fuhrer hear that."  
  
"You're more concerned with that man than with Rolf?"  
  
"-That man- rules Germany, darling."  
  
The woman fell silent, then a new voice joined them.   
  
"Fraulein."  
  
"Ja, Erik?"  
  
"The photographer is here."  
  
"Ah, let him in."  
  
"Is that a cue to leave, love?"  
  
A small smile. The man leant close to brush her cheek with his lips. They parted when another entered.  
  
"Come in."  
  
"Fraulein."  
  
A humble low bow.  
  
"I'm ready for my close-up - "  
  
A gasp. A hand at the throat. A camera fell with a loud thud. Then, the screams started.   
~  
  
Sara woke up with a start. Disoriented, she almost fell from her couch as she tried to rouse herself fully. She closed her eyes for a second and breathed deeply. She hated those dreams. They always seemed important and yet were so unclear with the faces hazy. At least, she knew who the wielder was. The Fuhrer... Rolf... Germany... Elizabeth.  
  
So, that's how she died...the roses. But, who was the man? Could it be... Her lips pursed at the thought. Then, she frowned. But, the photographer there...what did he have to do with the whole thing?  
  
After a few seconds, Sara opened her eyes and allowed them to adjust to the darkness. Her heart's fast pace slowed and she calmed down. Then, in the darkness, she saw the Witchblade shimmer and a sixth sense warned her that she was not alone. She looked towards her bedroom. Her gun was on her night table. She wouldn't be able to reach it without the intruder's knowledge. Just as her hand closed onto the vase near her, she saw the moonlight gleam on the pointed tip of a syringe.   
  
She threw the vase in the direction of her attacker as she pleaded for the Witchblade to react. But, somehow she knew it would not and on her adrenaline rush, she rolled off the couch and ran for her bedroom. She heard the crash of the vase as it fell, but no sound from the one hidden in the dark. Then, she was in her room. She dove for the night table and snatched her gun. On the floor as she was, she shot at the silhouette that filled the doorway. The shot roared throughout the room and for a moment, the dark one just seemed to stand there. Then, it fell to the floor with a dull thud. As she drew her knees close and huddled next to her bed, Sara realized she was shaking.  
  
The shrill ring of the phone snapped her out of her stupor and she picked it up with an unsteady hand.  
  
"Lady Sara, are you alright?"  
  
The fear in the familiar voice cut through her numbness and she just managed to stutter a reply.   
  
"I...I'm fi-fine...fine...."  
  
Her throat seemed to constrict and she couldn't speak anymore.   
  
"I'm coming, Lady Sara."  
  
She nodded her head though she knew he wouldn't see the motion. Then, she shakily hung up. After a drawn-out moment, she reached up and pulled the cord of the lamp near her. The light reached out to the far corners of the room and illuminated the prone figure in her doorway. A pool of blood had already started to gather underneath it. She's seen dead bodies before, but she suddenly felt the urge to vomit. She managed to get on her feet and turned towards the bathroom. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of something.   
  
She screamed, then darkness hit her.  
  
  
"Lady Sara..."  
  
She slowly opened her eyes and found her stalker hovering over her, strangely reminiscent of a worried mother hen. She started to choke out a laugh when she grimaced in pain at the pounding going on in her head.  
  
"Are you - "  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"I was worried," the man murmured.  
  
She managed a wan smile as she struggled to rise. Now, she recognized her surroundings as that of her bedroom. When the man tried to ease her back down, her eyebrows shot up and after a brief stare-down, he moved away. Forcing herself to sitting position, Sara looked towards her doorway. Her eyes widened when she found it empty but for a pool of blood.  
  
"What happened, Lady Sara?"  
  
"I fell asleep on the couch. I woke up. I knew someone was there. He had a syringe... Of course," she said to herself, more than to him. "They're deadly, but just one won't work. He has to inject them with the toxin itself. But, she died with just the flowers... A bouquet of them. -He- had them made to kill her... The bastard."  
  
"Lady Sara?" The man interrupted, clearly confused.  
  
"He tried to inject me," she continued. "I got away and headed for my gun. I shot him and he fell. He -should've- been dead." She nervously swallowed as she remembered what happened. "But, he wasn't. I saw him move. He went after me. Then, I was knocked unconscious. I don't know why he didn't kill me then.   
  
"Did you stop him?"  
  
She looked at him and to her surprise, he flinched.  
  
"I'm sorry I failed you, my Lady. He shouldn't have even come that close to you. And no, I wasn't able to stop him. I came in and he was bent down next to you. He had a syringe in one hand. It was still full and he seemed more intent on the Witchblade."  
  
"The Witchblade?"  
  
"Yes. When he saw me come in, he managed to get past me and went out the window and down the fire escape. I'd have followed him, but..."  
  
"But, what?"  
  
"I was worried about you."  
  
"Oh...I see."  
  
She flushed and turned her face away as he shifted restlessly on his feet. Then, he spoke.  
  
"He took the syringe with him. I'm afraid you have no proof of his true modus operandi, Lady Sara," he said apologetically.  
  
"But, I have the blood he left behind for a DNA test. I can at least find out who he is. I didn't see his face. Did you?"  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"...Nottingham, how old is Irons?"  
  
He stared at her.  
  
"Nottingham?" She raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I would not know, Lady Sara."  
  
"But, surely you can guess?"  
  
"It's not my place to say."  
  
She frowned at his suddenly monotone voice. He obviously knew more than he let on. A frown on her face, she studied her hands on the bedspread. They were steady now.  
  
"You may leave now. I'm fine."  
  
He seemed to stiffen at her indifferent tone. Then, he bowed his head and left in silence.   
  
  
"Did you test the blood?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"So, whose blood is it?"  
  
"No name came up. I checked all the databases possible. Either this man's very good or - "  
  
"Or he's been listed down as dead. ...Check the deceased files."  
  
"As you wish, sir."  
  
Ian shut his phone. Across him, he could see his Lady's partner at her place as they spoke. Then, the blonde man opened his arms as if to offer comfort and after a moment's hesitation, she stepped into his embrace. Ian's hands clenched at his sides, but he forced himself to look on as his Lady settled down on her bed and her partner on her couch.  
  
A harsh voice whispered inside his head.  
  
That should've been him. 


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.  
  
Guys, I'm flying to Hongkong tomorrow. I won't be around for around a week, so I'm posting this to keep the dogs of war (AKA the rabid readers...I hope... ^_^) from hunting me down. Be back in a few! ...And Spin, welcome back. ^_^  
  
Immortal Beloved  
Chapter 7  
  
"Morning."  
  
Sara smiled faintly at her partner as he set a plate before her. She hadn't wanted him to stay the night, but he'd insisted and she'd been too worn out to protest. Sure, it was sweet that he was so concerned, but she didn't do the damsel-in-distress role very well. She didn't do it. Period. ...So, she -had- been more than shaken by the events of the previous night. But, who wouldn't be when someone who was supposed to be dead decided to pull the resurrection? She considered herself a fairly decent shot and the blood on the floor said alot. So, what the hell was with this serial killer?  
  
Her dreams hadn't been that helpful either. In fact, they just confused her. She had an idea of who was behind the death of her predecessor, but the present serial killer was another matter entirely. All she had was a photographer who might - or might not be - the perp. And that didn't even have much to support it.  
  
"Are you up to our interview with Mr. Kohl? I called ahead already. He's free at ten."  
  
Now, wasn't someone excited... Sara just nodded her head as she swallowed a piece of toast. Besides that, her plate remained untouched. Jake frowned, but she just rolled her eyes.   
  
"Let's go then. It's almost ten. ...Did you call in the crime lab like I told you?"  
  
"Yeah. They'll be around after lunch. We should be back by then."  
  
"Good."  
  
She snatched her jacket and was already half-way out the door as he was forced to just dump the uneaten food in the trash and the dishes in the sink. Once outside, Sara took a deep breath and smiled as she got into Jake's car. It was a good day to be alive. Then, again... Any day above ground was a special day.  
  
  
But, it started to deteriorate as soon as she entered the suspect's shop. The stench of death and developing fluid overwhelmed her and Jake as soon as they came in. The front room was in complete chaos. Photos were scattered about the floor and furniture as if tossed around in a fury. The dark-room door hung on its hinges, red light sneaking out along with a puddle of the fluid. That seemed to be the start of it.  
  
Guns unholstered, the two followed the trail to the back room. Its door was ajar. Sara nudged it with her foot, but it wouldn't budge. Jake moved to take her place and kicked it open. That's when they saw the late Mr. Kohl bathed in a pool of his own blood. It was a wonder that Sara could identify him. His head was practically blown off. The gun tightly clasped in one hand was the obvious cause. That was the weapon.   
  
With the doorway blocked, Sara could only peer into the room. Inside, she could just see the head of a beautiful brunette. There didn't seem to be a head wound, but the blood around her was sure proof of death. Sara was almost certain that -she- was the motive to the whole scene.  
  
"I think we can safely list this down as a murder-suicide. No violent record, hn?" She smirked at Jake. "Well, there's a first time for everything. And -there- goes our only suspect along with our case."  
  
Jake looked in after her and shook his head.  
  
"Damn. What a waste of a woman."  
  
Sara rolled her eyes and handed him her phone.  
  
"Call it in. I'll look around."  
  
"Just don't - "  
  
"Touch a thing. I'm not stupid."  
  
"Sorry." He smiled sheepishly.  
  
By the time the others arrived, Sara was finished. She hadn't really known what she was searching for, so she was only slightly disappointed at turning up empty-handed. Somehow she'd known that Kohl wasn't the one. Sure, he was the most likely, but he just didn't seem the type. To obsess went far, but to act on it had limits. Kohl's limit had been a murder-suicide. They may still pin the other recent murders to him, but she doubted it.  
  
"Sara, phone."  
  
She raised an eyebrow as Jake returned her cellphone.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Dante."  
  
She took it with a frown and forced her voice to be even.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Jake tells me you guys found your perp dead."  
  
"Our -suspect- is dead. There's no proof - "  
  
"There's sufficient proof. Close the case."  
  
"I can't do that - "  
  
"You can. It's done."  
  
Before she could protest, he hung up on her and she was left glaring at her phone. She switched it to focus on Jake as he came close to her.  
  
"Our perp's dead, huh?" She snarled at him.  
  
"Hey! Don't lose it on me! I just told Dante - "  
  
"I know what you told Dante! Some partner you are!"  
  
"You should talk," Jake snapped. "I'm sick and tired of your crap. I mean it's fine for you to just forge on like some gung-ho cowboy 'cause I'm there to deal with the shit that follows, right? Well, the hell with that! I can't count how many times I've gone out on a limb for you, but it's never enough. Well, listen now. I'm not Danny Woo and I never will be, but I'm trying, OK? So, give me a f*ckin' break!"  
  
With that last retort, the man stormed out of the place. Sara just stared blankly as the door slammed shut, stunned by what had happened.  
  
"Well, it's time someone who wasn't me told you off."  
  
She turned to find her former partner beside her.  
  
"He's right you know," he continued. "He -is- trying."  
  
"I know that," she muttered under her breath.  
  
"Doesn't seem like it. Apologize and give him a chance."  
  
"Apologize?"  
  
"The word -is- in your vocabulary...right?" He smirked.  
  
Before she could think of a comeback, he was gone again.  
  
"Damn Danny."  
  
She considered going after Jake then changed her mind. She'd talk to him after he'd had some time to cool off. ...So, Dante had closed her case, huh? Well, she could still talk to the man who had started this whole situation. It always went back to him, didn't it? 


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.  
  
Thanks for your lovely reviews, guys! ^_^ Hope you didn't mind the wait. I just returned late yesterday. Not wanting to keep you guys waiting any longer, I wrote this up today. Enjoy! ^_^ ...And glad to see some other people have been hard at work while I was away. Good job, guys. You know who you are. ^_^ ...A day later...damnit. I came down with a damn cold and my internet's all screwed up. Sorry for the further delay.  
  
Immortal Beloved  
Chapter 8  
  
Sara made a quick call to the crime lab to continue their analysis of her apartment without her. She knew the men who'd be there and unlike some of her other colleagues, she trusted them. A few had even worked with father. They had their flaws, but they were clean.  
  
Just as she stopped at the tall gates of a large estate, a call came in on her radio. A robbery had been reported. She started to walk away when the address stopped her. She looked up at the mansion that loomed ahead of her, an omnious dark spot on the azure sky.  
  
She told the operator she'd check it out then jabbed at the intercom button. Seconds later, she was in a familiar study. But, the one seated across her was hardly familiar. Irons was a shadow of his former self as if time had sped faster for him then anyone else. His face was gaunt, yet his eyes gleamed with the old familiar fire.   
  
"I heard of your mishap." He rasped. "How are you?"  
  
"No need to concern yourself with my health," she replied coldly. "I'm not here for your false sympathy. Whether you were reincarnated or it's still you, I don't care. What I want to know is what really happened the day Elizabeth Bronte died. I already know you sent her the flowers. Hell, I know you had them -made- for her. But, I want to know why you killed her. You couldn't control her, is that it?"  
  
"I loved her," he spat out. "As hard as it is for you to accept such a concept. Yes, I -am- capable of the weakness which is love."  
  
"Oh, please. You just wanted the Blade. She was in the way - "  
  
"Never, -ever- imply that I would have hurt her!" He hissed.   
  
"Then, what did happen?" Sara asked, tone acid-laced.  
  
"I never knew the flowers were poisoned. I swear - "  
  
"That's a lie."  
  
"Believe what you want," he snapped. "It's the truth."  
  
"...What do the other women have to do with her? Is this some sort of twisted ritual of yours to relive the way she died?"  
  
"I am not in any way at all involved in the deaths of those women. The fact that they share your face is, I admit...odd - "  
  
"I prefer the phrase 'too coincidental'. I know that you're involved in this affair, whether you want to admit it or not."  
  
She waited for him to reply, but he shrugged and said nothing. His obvious resentment of her accusations about Elizabeth had left him and he was now his usual unflustered self. That annoyed her.  
  
"I'll ask you another time. What happened the day she died?"  
  
"I handed her the flowers. A man entered. A cameraman. I started to leave. I was in the foyer when she started to scream." He pinned her with a penetrating gaze. "You cannot know what it's like to see the one person you care about die before your eyes. The helplessness - "  
  
"Correction," she said coldly. "I've lived that way all my life."  
  
"...You know how and why she died - or at least, you think you do. So, what else do you want to know, -Detective-?"  
  
"Who else was there? The cameraman. A servant named Erik. And?"  
  
"Reconstructing the crime? How original - not to mention useless. Your crime scene is long gone, so are your evidence and witnesses."  
  
"Well, I still have you, don't I? I repeat. Who else was there?"  
  
"Her bodyguard." The man actually had the audacity to smirk at her.  
  
She overlooked it and raised an eyebrow in order to prod the man.  
  
"You already have me marked down as her killer. What's the point?"  
  
"I still have a serial killer on the loose."  
  
"Well, I've already told you all I know."  
  
"What about the names of those who were there?"  
  
"The cameraman was a Jan Heine. A nobody really. I'm sure the man's dead by now. The servant was an old-time companion. His name was Erik Kohl - "  
  
"Kohl, you say?"  
  
"Yes. But, I doubt he's your man. He was ancient - and he died in his sleep soon after her death. ...Not a surprise really. The old man worshipped her."  
  
"Any relatives?"  
  
"He wasn't married. But, it's possible. I believe he had an affair with a Jewish woman. Not tolerated in those times, of course. She was shot in the streets."  
  
"Hn. ...You mentioned another man. A bodyguard. What about him?"  
  
Another smirk.  
  
"Ah, you mean Christian. Another man who adored her. He shot himself in the head afterwards."  
  
"His last name?"  
  
"If he had one, I didn't know it. He was a private person. Our only shared interest was her."  
  
"So, everyone involved is six feet under with the exception of -you-. Coincidence? I don't think so. ...And by the way, where's your boyfriend? I have some questions for him as well."  
  
"I'm sure he's around here. Do you want me to call him?"  
  
She nodded sharply just as her phone vibrated in her pocket. While Irons summoned the other man, she turned to take out her phone and answer it.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sara, it's Ralph. The results came in."  
  
"And?"  
  
"No dice. I can't find shit on the man."  
  
"Damnit."  
  
"I could call in some favors if you want..."  
  
"Would you?"  
  
"No problemo."  
  
"Thanks, Ralph."  
  
When she'd finished, someone else had joined them. The man stood in the shadows behind Irons with his head bowed.  
  
"You wanted to see me?" He asked her.  
  
"I heard there's been a robbery here," she said.  
  
Irons looked up in surprise at the sudden turn in conversation.  
  
"There has."  
  
His voice was flat, but the way his eyes subtly shifted to Irons spoke volumes. Strangely enough, he didn't seem to know about the recent robbery.  
  
"Yes. You're Irons' bodyguard, aren't you? Surely, you know about the security of this estate. Would you escort me and show where the guilty party entered? I'd also appreciate a list of what was taken."  
  
Irons nodded his head at the other.  
  
"Of course," Ian replied soon after.  
  
"While you show her the library, I'll make a list of the things missing. It should be ready when you return." The man smiled.  
  
She nodded. She started to turn towards the door, but she saw the steely look Irons flashed on his servant. The dark-clothed man nodded and in another moment, she was ushered out the door.   
  
Clearly, there was more to this than a simple robbery. 


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.  
  
Once more, thanks for your reviews, people! I live and write for them. Feeds the ego, inspires the mind. Hehe. ^_^ So, here's a new one for all those out there. This should be wrapped up soon - as other fics seem to be - but I already have another in mind. ...And to those who asked, Hong Kong was great. ^_^ Shopping...good food... But, it's good to be back, too. Can't be separated from my computer for too long. ^_^  
  
Immortal Beloved  
Chapter 9  
  
Sara followed the man down the corridor to an immense room. Shelves towered above her filled with dusty tomes, gilt-designed hardbounds, and crisp paperbacks. A few were scattered on the floor. It didn't seem to be the norm from the frown on her escort's face. There were blanks in the wooden shelves as well. She went on after him as he walked past the chaos towards the French windows that opened out to the lawn. Careful not to touch anything, she made note of every tiny detail.  
  
It was strange. The culprit's capability to rob Irons' fortress did not match with the mess he'd left behind. Such a crime took time and effort and it would be a carefully set heist, not a rush job such as this. He would have known what he was after, taken it, and left. So, why was it...  
  
Staged.  
  
Of course. It would be just like Irons to fake a rare book robbery to hide another...a more costly one that he couldn't report. But, what could be stolen that he didn't want known...contraband? That didn't seem Irons' style.  
  
Then, the Blade stepped in.  
  
~  
Ian separated before her eyes.  
  
One remained by the window with one of Irons' security detail. The other walked to her and beckoned. It went to a tall shelf and pressed a book into the shelf. The entire section opened inwards to reveal a set of steps.   
  
She followed him.  
  
A lab. Sterile. The stench of disinfectant. Cold tiles. Steel tables. Tubes. Vials. Bottles. Neat labels. Bunsen burners. Syringes. Scalpels.   
  
A soft splash.  
  
She looked down. A trail of water. Drops scattered on the tiles. She bent to touch. Cold.  
  
A whisper.  
  
She stood. She was alone now. Another whisper. She had to follow the water. Find the truth.  
  
She followed.  
  
A curtain. She raised a hand to part it. Then, she saw. A bare steel slab. Wet...and cold.  
  
Ice...thawed...  
  
"Sara..."  
  
She turned around.  
  
Elizabeth.  
  
"He loves me. But, his mind is misled. He increases his time here in search of a fountain of youth. I am a temporary solution. And that's ironic. All he has done...it's to find -you-...to revive -me-."   
  
The apparition reached out to touch her and she was flooded with the other's memories of him...the atrocities he committed to her...   
  
Then, the touch left her and she was alone once more. She fell to the floor and resisted the desire to retch. She'd always known Irons was a monster, but to know what he'd done to the woman he loved for that -same- woman...  
  
"And there is another," the voice continued in her head. "He is the one you want. He watched as I died. He loved me. He has searched for me all this time. He has me now. But, it is not finished. He will not stop until Irons is dead."  
  
"What's the problem with that?"  
  
"He is one who will not die. It will be finished, but his taste for death will not. You see...immortality tends to turn death into an escape. It will eat at him and he shall start to prey on others once more. Only Irons can stop him."  
  
"You mean...defeat the greater evil with the lesser."  
  
"It is the only way. Kenneth's own time will come. Until then, stay strong, Sara...and learn to trust in others. There is someone who cares for you and he is closer than you realize."  
~  
  
"Lady Sara..."  
  
She gasped as she snapped out of the vision. When she looked up, she met the concerned eyes of her stalker. Only when he hesitantly reached out to her did she realize how close he was. Suddenly uncomfortable, she stepped away from him. As she did, relief hit her at the same time a tinge of guilt did. He could not hide the hurt that flashed in his eyes, so he turned from her.  
  
"I'm sorry," she muttered to him. "You were saying something?"  
  
"...The intruders entered via the French windows."  
  
"Shouldn't an alarm have sounded? What about security cameras?"  
  
"Yes, an alarm should have sounded." The man frowned. "We don't know why it didn't. And the security cameras showed no entry or exit."   
  
"Fantastic. An invisible immortal," she cursed under her breath.  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
She shook her head and turned from him.  
  
"Is Irons still in his study?"  
  
"Yes, he is."  
  
"Then, I want to see him now."  
  
She turned on her heel and left the library with her stalker a mere step behind. She found Irons where she'd left him. A scrawled list sat in front on him as he stared morosely into his lit hearth. He looked like a man who'd lost his most prized possession - which he had. But, Sara felt no pity for him. This man didn't deserve it. Elizabeth had called him misled. Well, she could say that. After all, he had loved her in his own twisted way. But, this monster...   
  
"Lost your consort, hn?" She remarked sarcastically.  
  
His head snapped up.  
  
"What...what are you saying?" He actually stuttered.  
  
"It seems someone has stolen your Rapunzel, Irons."  
  
"Where is she?" He rose to his feet and hissed at her.  
  
"I don't know," she coldly replied.  
  
"Then, how did you know that she - " He scowled at Ian.  
  
"Not him. The Blade told me. Didn't you eavesdrop?"  
  
She raised an eyebrow as he paled and clutched his hand.  
  
It was obvious he hadn't.  
  
"Hn. Lost your touch, huh?" She smirked. Then, she became serious. "...I hate you. But, only you can handle this. So...do you know an immortal or two?"  
  
Ian's eyes widened.  
  
Gotcha. 


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.  
  
Thanks for the great reviews, guys! ^_^ This is the last chapter, but stay tuned for an epilogue. You know, how I can't end without one. ^_^ After that, it may be some time 'til the other one comes out. I seem to have some problems in search of a suitable end. You see, there'll be a crossover and I don't know who should win... Good guys of this series or villains of other series? Suggestions? ^_^  
  
Immortal Beloved  
Chapter 10  
  
"One out of the three present at Elizabeth's death still lives," Sara continued. "He's our man. We only need to know which one."  
  
She stared at Ian. But, he avoided her eyes as Irons was silent.  
  
"So, don't share your secrets," she said to them with a humorless smile. "It doesn't matter. This is far from finished...far from it."   
  
She turned around and left without another look back.  
  
  
"A nobody really. ...Ha. That's what you think, Irons. Then, how is it that I invaded your castle and stole your princess?" He sneered.  
  
The man leaned into his seat and removed his headphones. He had heard what he wanted. It was now time for step two of his plan.  
  
"Yours, indeed," he muttered darkly to himself. "You're not worthy. You can't even care for her. ...It was -so- easy. When you made a clone of Christian into your knight, that was a mistake. I had time to learn his ways then and he has not changed. I wonder what you'd do if you knew I had my own eyes and ears all over your castle."  
  
He smirked at the idea. Then, he shook his head to clear it. He had business at hand. He went into the back of his van and waited at the door. Eyes on his watch, he waited. One...two...three...four...five.  
  
He shoved the door open. The woman outside swirled to face him in surprise. He just reached forward and took her arm. A quick jab at her arm with a sharp syringe and she went limp in his arms. He waved at the watchful camera with a malicious smile. Let the games begin.  
  
Then, he sped off towards his own humble abode. -His- princess waited there. He went to her as soon as he arrived. She lay on the silk sheets he'd purchased with her in mind. She was so still...so pale...and so cold. Crystal drops of water surrounded her. With her eyes closed in eternal sleep, she seemed like one out of the fairy tales. He sighed at the thought and turned to her predecessor.   
  
He'd known as soon as he'd seen the Blade on her wrist and met the second Christian at her apartment that she was the new Wielder. He knew about the Witchblade and its powers. But, he refused to respect it. He knew it could have saved his princess' life, yet it hadn't. It had forsaken her. For that reason, he didn't care what happened with the new Wielder. She was just another pawn to play.  
  
He laid her on the couch and brought out another syringe. Then, he withdrew a sample of her blood and injected it into a vial. He taped that at the bottom of a carton. A short note was also placed there with a lock of dark hair in an envelope. That done, he drew out his weapon from its case and slipped it under his coat. It took some time to finish the rest of his work, but when it was finished, he reverently placed a kiss on his princess' hand with a sad smile.  
  
"Sleep well, my lady."  
  
  
In silence, Ian watched his Lady's abduction on the screen. His face was devoid of expression, but his hands were clenched at his sides. He imprinted her abductor's face in his mind as he considered all the wonderful ways the other would suffer.   
  
Irons was also silent. He already knew the face. It was obvious that this time the butler did -not- do it. The other man hadn't even bothered to conceal his features. That meant that he intended Irons to find him. For once, he wasn't the one that weaved the web of deceit. Irons didn't appreciate that at all.  
  
Then, a soft tap on the door disturbed their reverie. Irons nodded at Ian and the man went to open the door and scowl at the intruder.  
  
"What is it?"   
  
"A pa-package just ca-came for Mr. I-Irons, si-sir. It's ur-urgent."  
  
Said package was given - well, almost shoved - into Ian's arms, then the door was slammed shut in the face of the shaken servant.   
  
"Give it to me."  
  
Ian did as he was told and handed the small carton to his master. For a moment, the man examined it to see if it was safe. Then, he took his letter opener and slit the tape at the cover's sides to peer inside. He first removed the note at the bottom and scanned it. Then, he took out the envelope and emptied its contents into his palm. He shifted the strands of hair in his hand, a blank look on his face. He carefully returned them to the envelope, then took the last item inside. He held the vial up to examine it before he handed it to Ian.  
  
"Instruct Dr. Immo to produce another one."   
  
After Ian left, the man reread the letter.  
  
"I have your princess and your pawn. You have lost the duel of wits. Lose the duel of swords and you lose them forever. Midnight. Central Park. Find me."  
  
  
"I can't leave you with him, sir."  
  
"You will because I order it," Irons said calmly.  
  
"But, sir, this man is dangerous."  
  
"He's a photographer, Nottingham."  
  
"And an immortal."  
  
"I have heard of their kind. A sharp sword will do the trick." He pinned his servant down with a cold look. "Now, do as you're told."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"While I deal with this idiot, I want you to find them. Understood?"  
  
Ian nodded.  
  
Irons stepped out of his car and onto the sidewalk. He didn't even watch as Ian drove away. Instead, he shifted his sword in his hand to test its weight and tighten his grip. He hadn't used it for some time. He had sparred with Ian when he was a young boy, but that was years past. Now, he had to be good enough to get back what was his.  
  
He found the other in the midst of a copse. The trees towered above them to cast omnious shadows. There was also the whisper of the wind and the muted sounds of nocturnal creatures. It was the hours of darkness made for lovers. And that wasn't too far from the reason those two were there. Someone said that every story is a love story.  
  
Perhaps he was right.  
  
With the Wielder's blood in his veins, Irons had never felt so powerful. If this upstart felt he could beat him, he would find himself dead wrong.  
  
The main word being dead.  
  
The night air was exhilarating, the blood lust intoxicating. At first, they seemed to be equals, then it became clear who was the more capable one. Careful not to become overconfident, Irons did not relent until the other knelt at his feet. Then, at a careful distance, he rested the steel of his sword at the other's throat.   
  
"Where are they?"  
  
"Where I will be soon."  
  
"You bastard."  
  
"You never deserved her."  
  
Faster than the eye could see, the polished steel rose in the air then retreated just as quickly. A wild arc of crimson splashed onto Irons as the decapitated body collapsed at his feet. He stared at it in silence as he felt his scarred hand burn as if on fire. And that alone told him that the other had spoken true.  
  
  
The car stopped at the apartment house with the squeal and smell of burnt rubber. The driver rushed out and stared at the burning building. The roof seemed to be ready to fall in and flames roared out the windows at the top floors. The sirens of fire trucks could be heard in the distance. But, the man knew they'd be too late.  
  
Unconcerned for his own safety, he entered. Wooden beams shuddered as fire licked at their foundation. Ash and smoke clouded his view, yet determination and adrenalin forced him to continue. He found the door he searched for and kicked it in to find the room ablaze. Still, he looked blindly about him for any clue of his Lady's presence. He finally found her huddled in a corner with wrists still bound. He took her into his arms and ran out as the room caved in.  
  
Once in open air, he ignored his singed clothing and focused on the lifeless form in his arms. He set her down on the sidewalk and started to try and revive her. When he saw the Blade on her wrist, he clasped it and silently pleaded for it to help her. Instead, it remained inert, a cold contrast to its Wielder. Then, when he released it, it fell off. Unable to believe it, he started to do CPR. The paramedics had to pull him off the woman when they came.  
  
  
"The Wielder's dead," his servant flatly stated.  
  
"And her predecessor?"  
  
"I was unable to locate her remains in the fire."  
  
"What about the Blade?"  
  
"...It is lost to us."  
  
"Then, it is finished. ...I have no need for you now. Leave. The darkness awaits you, who have failed your master and your Lady."  
  
Irons heard the other leave and continued to sit in silence. After a drawn-out moment, he turned to his intercom and pressed a button.   
  
"Do what you have to do, Doctor." 


	12. Epilogue

Disclaimer: The Witchblade Movie, Series, Comics, and characters belong to Top Cow Productions. I own nothing but the idea here.  
  
Oops... O_o It seems I rushed the end a teensy-weensy bit...fine, alot! I'M SORRY! Clarifications are definitely in order. First, Irons' connection with the Blade had started to fade. There was no interference from Elizabeth or the immortal. And yes, immortal as in Highlander immortal - but, no, I don't own anything in -that- series either. Another yes, it -was- Sara's body that Ian pulled out. And the Blade did fall off -her- wrist. ...Lastly, who told you Sara was dead? It ain't over 'til it's over... I feel so guilty... I'll try to pace my new fic a li'l slower. Actually, I really will have to pace it 'cause school will start soon. College...*gulp*... Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but the crossover is...well...ahem, anime. Yes, as in Japanese cartoons... FINE! I -am- a freak of nature! ...It's an assassin series called Weiß Kreuz... Tell me what you think. I'm open to comments. ...You guys do forgive me...right? O_O  
  
Immortal Beloved  
Epilogue  
  
Ian placed the bowl on the table and sat down to eat in silence. A cereal box was his companion - well, that and a stray cat he'd picked up. In a way, it reminded him of himself. Alone in the world. Unwanted. He'd named it, 'Shadow'. It seemed appropriate. For once, someone else was doing the stalking. The gray cat never seemed to want to let him out of its sight. At the moment, it weaved its way about his chair and settled down to drink its pan of warm milk. It contentedly lapped at it as it purred like a motor at his feet.   
  
After they'd eaten, the two went out for their daily walk. It was a nice Monday morning and some neighbours were already leaving for work in the city. He waved back to those he knew and went on through the small suburb area he now called home. He reached the local grocery store and bought some eggs. Maybe he'd bake cookies.  
  
When he returned to his house, he removed the leash so his cat could rush ahead and leap into the arms of the woman on the porch steps. She obligingly caught the purring bundle and scratched its stomach before releasing it. Then, she stood to flash a wan smile at the man a few feet away.  
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
"No...I was in the area and...well, hi."  
  
"I see...hi," he hesitantly returned.   
  
"Well...if you're busy, I could leave - "  
  
"No! ...No. I'm baking cookies."  
  
"Cookies?" She blinked in surprise.  
  
"Yes. Double chocolate chip ones."  
  
"My favorite."  
  
"I know."  
  
She flushed slightly and coughed.  
  
"...I never did have the chance to ask you. Where's the Witchblade?"   
  
"It's in some museum. It probably waits there for its new Wielder."  
  
"It left me."  
  
"Yes." A soft reply.  
  
"You saved me."  
  
"Yes." Even softer.  
  
"But, why did you tell Irons I was dead?"  
  
"To hide you from him."  
  
"But, -why- did you do it?"  
  
"...So, you'd be safe."  
  
The answer was so simple, and yet... The two just stood there, feet apart and eyes on the paved pathwalk. Then, the woman looked up.  
  
"If you're ever in the city...call me? Maybe we could have lunch or watch a movie." He nodded his head. "...Well, I guess I should go."  
  
She started to walk towards her car. For a moment, he just stood there with his back to her. His cat sat placidly at the porch and seemed to give him the evil eye. Suddenly, he turned around and called out to her.  
  
"Sara."  
  
She looked back at him with an uncertain smile.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you want to bake cookies?"  
  
Damn, he was a pathetic fool.  
  
"I'd like that."  
  
But, at least, he was her fool.  
  
  
The hand rose and fell to an unheard rhythm with its long fingers clasped around the ivory handle of a brush. It moved up and down the dark silken hair, then it was set aside as the hands braided the soft scented tresses. When they were finished, they reverently smoothed the dark head of hair one last time then rested on the slender shoulders of the woman.  
  
"I have a present for you."  
  
"A pwesent for me, Kenny?"  
  
Her dark emerald eyes lit up as she clapped her hands. The man merely smiled and handed her a velvet case. She fumbled with the clasp in her anticipation then cooed when she saw what lay within.  
  
"Oh, what a pweety bwacelet!"   
  
He brushed his lips on her flushed cheek as he fastened it on her wrist. The red gem that adorned the bangle gleamed for a moment. Then, it was gone. The man chose not to see it as the woman leaned into his embrace. He held her close as she continued to blather on about the bracelet. Every one in awhile, he'd nod his head at her.  
  
"Can we ride the horsies tomorrow, Kenny? Huh, can we?"  
  
"Of course, sweet. ...Anything and everything for you."   
  
In the darkness, a man smiled sadly. He saw what the other refused to see...the child within the woman, the body without its soul. 


End file.
